


on his mouth like liquor

by inejcrows



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Actress/Rockstar AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But with a happy ending, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of past abuse, maybe a lil bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inejcrows/pseuds/inejcrows
Summary: “Well, he needs to be in the media for something other than punching a paparazzo and you.. Sansa, you need to be seen more hanging out with people in the industry. We think you should date”.“Are you completely insane?”, she asks – an hysterical laugh escaping her lips. “We haven’t seen each other in years and you think we should date?”“Fake date! I meant fake dating!”





	1. chapter one.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first multi chapter fic so please, be kind.

Sansa is scrolling through Twitter when she sees the news.

> Jon Snow, 26, lead singer of the famous band The Direwolves, has punched a paparazzo. The rockstar was out and about with his friends and after having a few drinks, as can be seen in the pictures linked below, he attacked a seemingly innocent paparazzo. The altercation was broken up by his friend, and fellow band member, Robb Stark. The two men have yet to release a statement.

The article is short and the pictures are blurry but she can clearly recognize her brother and his best friend doing shots in a dingy pub in one and them heading out with some girls she has never seen in another.

She sends a quick text to Robb: _are you alright?_ and turns her attention back to the comments under the Westeros News tweet.

Some of them are from fans showing their support, others condemn the violent action – most of them are more focused on the “mysterious” girls more than anything.

Sansa sighs.

She remembers her mother’s concerns about Jon Snow and she remembers his quick temper when he was just a boy, living next door from the Starks.

_An angry kid_ , she recalls Catelyn saying with a sad expression on her face, _life has failed him too many times._

He had been arrogant too, at times, quick in letting people know he was a skilled hockey player, overall good at sports and also very talented with a guitar.

She loses herself in the memories, Robb and Jon laughing sitting on the sofa. Jon’s mother’s, Lyanna, soft smile whenever she visited their home. Robb and Jon getting in fights at school, always trying to defend the underdogs, always ready to put bullies in their place. Jon helping Arya with her history essays. Arya giving Jon her rare, brilliant smile. Jon pushing Bran’s wheelchair around the house. Robb and Jon playing with Rickon.

Her always watching, always observing, never really partecipating in the fun, both too young and too old to relate to her siblings or Jon, too naive and too romantic to be taken seriously by the people in her household – the perfect daughter but never Stark enough.

It’s a constant in her life, being always perfect but somehow never enough.

It’s an ugly, intrusive thought and she’s taken from it when her phone dings.

> **Arya** : have you read the news?
> 
> _**Sansa**_ : yes, can you come over?
> 
> **Arya** : omw

When her sister arrives, she throws herself in the small girl’s arms – her way of saying it’s a bad day and she needs comfort. Arya returns her hug fiercely – her way of saying she’s there for Sansa.

They love each other, they always have but everything that happened in the past year has brought them closer.

Arya had found her in King’s Landing, bruised and scared, after she had disappeared from the public eye for months.

She had stopped calling her family, never leaving the house, turning down movie offers and planning her escape from Joffrey.

Arya was the one who came into the house she shared with her now ex-boyfriend, Joffrey Lannister, and held her while she cried, the one who packed her bags and took the photos for the police.

She was also the one who stepped into the role of manager once Sansa decided she wanted to fire Petyr Baelish.

They step away from each other and Arya pulls some scripts out of her bag to show Sansa.

“These are good, Sans, you’ll like them”, she says, sitting at the kitchen table.

“I’ll take a look at them”, Sansa says – probably not very convincingly considered the look of disbelief in her sister’s eyes.

“I will! I swear”, she insists.

“You need to get back to work or at least give out a statement for the fans, they have all been extremely patient but you’ll lose their support if they don’t hear anything from you”, the truth hurts a little but Arya is not wrong.

She is ready to get back to acting, ready to move on from her disastrous relationship. Truly.

She just needs something good, something that speaks to her.

She puts a cup of tea in front of her and Arya and takes a seat.

Sansa checks her phone, there’s a reply from Robb: _I’m good. Jon isn’t._

“So”, she breaks the silence, “Jon, uh?”

Arya grimaces. “About that”, her sister is looking at her strangely, almost guiltily, “I was talking to Robb and Sam – you know, Sam Tarly? – and well, we were thinking that it would be beneficial for him to have some positive media coverage”.

“Ok?”, Sansa is hesitant, not sure where the conversation is going.

“Well, he needs to be in the media for something other than punching a paparazzo and you.. Sansa, you need to be seen hanging out with people in the industry”, a small pause then: “we think you should date”.

There’s silence. Only silence for a while.

“Are you completely insane?”, she asks – an hysterical laugh escaping her lips. “We haven’t seen each other in years and you think we should date?”

“ _Fake_ date! I meant _fake_ dating!”

“He was just spotted out with some random girls! Who in their right mind would believe us?”

“That’s why we’re gonna wait a month or two, you’ll get to pick a role from one of the scripts I gave you and then you’re gonna go public! It’s perfect, Sans. Good publicity for the both of you and a big public fuck you to Joffrey Lannister”.

Sansa stands up and starts pacing the room.

“Jon needs our help, Sans, please”, and that is what’s keeping her from saying no.

The clear love her siblings have for the man, her memories of him making Bran laugh after the incident, her mother’s sad expression while talking about how life had failed him.

Sansa says yes.

* * *

It’s later in the evening, once Arya has left the apartment and she’s already in bed, that she receives a text.

> **unknown number** : guess we r dating now

Sansa doesn’t respond, just adds the number to her contacts under the name _Jon Snow_.


	2. chapter two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so difficult for me to write so please be kind! i apologize for any possible mistake.

They meet each other for the first time in five years in his manager’s office.  
He’s sitting in a chair, tilting it back so it touches the wall behind him. He looks like the biggest rockstar cliche in the world with his leather jacket and all black outfit, his unruly curls covering his face and his knucles still bruised from the fight. He also looks older, she has seen him in photos and interviews but seeing him in person is different.  
He is handsome – that’s for sure, dark and brooding where Joff was bright and charming.  
Jon looks troubled and Sansa feels the urge to comfort him, to apologize for nothing in particular – just to let him know she’s sorry he feels as burdened as she does.  
She’s standing there, in the middle of the room and she hopes she doesn’t look completely terrified.  
Sam gives her a small smile and Arya nudges her to her seat.  
Jon seems rather occupied doing anything but looking at her so he surprises her when he speaks.

  
“You didn’t answer my text”, his voice is rough and deep and the northern accent makes her think of her father.

  
“Sorry”, she whispers and he scoffs.

Sam clears his throat and start stalking about their plan. Their first public date is going to be in two months, they are gonna have to keep up the rouse for at least six months for it to be believable and they need to be talked about often for the stunt to work. 

“That sounds good”, she offers after some silence.

Jon scoffs again and she can see him rolling his eyes.

  
“You have something to say?”, he’s acting like a spoiled brat and she can’t just keep quiet.

  
“Sounds good? It’s fucking bullshit! Why do I have to date _her_ to clean my image?”

  
Sansa can’t believe her ears.

  
“What is your problem? I’m trying to help you, Jon!”

  
“Don’t act like this doesn’t benefit you at all”, he’s raising his voice a little – pointing his finger at her.

  
“The entire reason we are here right now is because you punched someone! Maybe if you learned to control your anger we wouldn’t have to pretend we’re in a relationship!”, they are both standing up now, looking like they could kill each other.

  
“Oh, our Lady Sansa is still judging us peasants, I see”, he sneers.

  
“Go to hell”, she says before grabbing her bag and heading out of the room.

* * *

  
“You need to apologize”, Arya says to Jon while drinking a beer back at his flat.  
He chuckles a little, with no real humor.

  
“She has always hated me, judged me for not being as perfect as she was and now I have to pretend I’m in love with her for six fucking months, Arya. I don’t need to do anything”, he sits next to her on the couch and starts scrolling through his phone absentmindedly.

  
Arya flicks his phone away, making it fall on his lap. She’s angry, very much so.  
“Listen to me, Jon Snow, you’re going to call my sister, ask her to be kind enough to accept your apology and then you’re going to bring her a good bottle of wine. Is that clear?”, her tone is final and he can’t help but sigh.

  
This is how for the second time in less than a week he finds himself typing a text for Sansa Stark: **can we meet?**

* * *

Sansa says yes because she’s way too forgiving and she really wants to help Jon, even if it’s just to make Robb and Arya less worried.  
They decide to meet at a small café near her apartment, it’s quiet and small. She knows the bartender and she trusts they will not be surprised by paparazzi or screaming fans.  
The day of, she wakes up panicked and sweaty at six in the morning. She has to take some time to calm down before heading to the shower and washing away her nightmare (it’s always Joffrey, over her, next to her, behind her, touching her, insulting her, harming her).  
She knows it’s going to be a hard day, she feels anxious and tired and she has to meet a man who openly dislikes her. A beautiful man, her mind adds. Beautiful and complicated.  
She doesn’t worry too much about her appearance, still too angry at him to actually care about his opinion on anything, but she does put on some makeup before going out of the house.  
She’s the first one to arrive. Script in hand she sits down at a table at the back of the shop and starts studying her lines. She accepted one of the offers Arya brought her that damned night and she truly couldn’t have asked for a better role for her comeback. Shae, director and producer, had also dated a Lannister, Tyrion, and had suffered because of it.  
Alayne Stone, is her name’s character. The story is raw and beautiful and empowering, Sansa feels excited about her work for the first time in years.  
She’s focused on reading when someone sets something on her table and she jumps. Her lungs constrict and for a second she thinks Joffrey has found her, breaking the restraining order. She’s about to cry out or simply get up and run when she actually takes in the appearance of the man standing in front of her.  
Jon Snow is looking at her, a little concerned and confused. He’s still wearing that stupid leather jacket but his hair is bound instead of down and she can see his face better.  
He has a scar above his eye, it’s faded but still noticeable and she wants to ask him about it but they are not friends, so she doesn’t.

  
“Are you okay?”, he asks before sitting down and she waits a little for her heart rate to slow down before answering.

  
“I’m fine”, she eyes what he has put on the table, “what’s that?”

  
“Wine. Arya told me..”, he sighs, “well, Arya told me to apologize to you and bring you a good bottle of wine so.. there you go”. He nudges the package towards her but she makes no move to accept it.

  
“Is that why we are here?”, she asks instead – waving to the waiter for him to come and get their order - “you want to apologize?”

  
“I was angry at the meeting and I’ve been unfair to you”

  
“You have”, her eyes are icy and he thinks he’d do anything to never have to withstand that disappointed stare ever again.  
“You know”, she continues, “I’m used to men using their anger to justify their shitty behaviors and I’m used to them releasing that anger on me. I will not, ever in my life, date someone like that again. Fake or not”.

  
She sees the moment it clicks for him, her story clearly coming back to him from the various articles or maybe her siblings themselves. He lowers his gaze and reaches slightly for her hand on the countertop.  
Their fingers brush and then he breaks the contact, retreats his hand quickly and puts it in his lap.

  
“I’m so, so sorry”, he murmurs and she has heard those words before but she finds himself believing him fully.  
“I need you to know I would never.. I’m not.. I will never lay a finger on you, Sansa. We don’t know each other anymore but please, at least know that”, he looks so sincere, so incredibly mortified she cannot help but smile a little and nod.  
He beams at her then, the genuine smile he always gave her sibling but never her and something flutters in her chest.  
When their orders arrive, Sansa breaks the silence.

  
“We need to work on a story”, he frowns a little so she explains, “about us dating” – and so they do.

* * *

Their first date is at a fancy restaurant.  
It’s not really Jon’s style but Sam insisted saying it would look good in the articles.  
The place is incredibly beautiful and he’s already sat at the table when she shows up.  
She’s wearing a long flowy dress, her hair is falling down her shoulder and he has to remind himself of their arrangement, how everything between them is fake, before he makes a fool of himself by doing something stupid like telling her how extremely gorgeous she is or, worse, kissing her on the spot.  
She grins at him and thanks the waiter that escorted her to the table. Jon can already see camera flashes going off outside the big glass windows and he has to fight the urge to ask for them to be moved.  
They are putting on a show, after all, that’s what they wanted.

  
“It’s nice to see you without combat boots”, she jokes – as nervous as he is.

  
“It’s nice to see you not angry with me”, he retorts and when she laughs he feels stupidly proud of himself.

  
The dinner is pleasant and they find each other having more things in common than he expected.  
It’s during dessert that she brings up their shared childhood.

  
“You know, I never really hated you”, he’s taken by surprise by the sudden revelation. “I was also kinda jealous of you, actually, every single one of my siblings seemed to like you better than me. You clearly preferred Robb and Arya. I always felt.. left out, in a way”, she’s not looking at him – embarassed from what she has told him.  
He chuckles.

“I always thought you disliked me for no reason at all. I stayed away from you thinking you’d never want to have anything to do with me”, she’s shaking her head now, a smile on her lips.

  
“Gods, we were such dumb kids, uh?”

  
“I’m glad we are not kids anymore”, he says and he means it.

* * *

When they exist the restaurant, the paparazzi are waiting for them, shouting unintelligible things at them.  
He asks for her permission before putting a hand around her waist and pulling her at his side. He tries to shield her best as he can from the people trying to get to them and he tightens his grip on her when someone yells Joffrey’s name.

When Sansa goes to sleep that night she lets herself think about how good it felt to be held by someone who wanted to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on twitter @keysansa and leave kudos or comments if you want!  
> thank you for reading.


	3. chapter three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of panic attacks. i wanted sansa story to feel as real as possible and i hope i made it justice.

They’ve been dating, fake dating, for two months now.  
Jon has stayed the night in her flat, per Sam and Arya’s suggestion. The paparazzi had taken pictures of him entering in the evening and they’ll get shots of him walking out in the morning.  
She wakes up with a scream lodged in her throat, her heart pounding. She can’t breathe and it’s so scary she sobs loudly, her hands going to her hair.  
Jon is there in a matter of seconds, having heard her from his makeshift bed on her sofa.

  
“Sansa, hey, breathe with me”, his hands go to her shoulders and she shudders a little at the unexpected touch, he moves as if to remove them but she keeps them in place with her own hands.  
She’s aware she must look a mess but she can’t stop crying and she can’t bring herself to care about her appearance.

  
“Sans”, her eyes meets his for the first time since he has come into her bedroom. The nickname he has taken to use with her calming her down a little.

  
“Hey”, he smiles – the corners of his eyes crinkling a little -, “can you breathe with me?”

  
She nods imperceptibly and they start inhaling and exhaling in unison. One of his hands is in her hair, twirling some locks between his fingers and the other is on her cheek.  
When she finally catches her breath she is exhausted. This is the first panic attack she has had in weeks and she feels weaker than she has felt in a long time.  
Her head hits the pillow again when she lies down, Jon still sitting near her, a relieved look on his face.

  
“You wanna talk about it?”, his voice is still hoarse from being waken up suddenly. She looks at the clock – 5 a.m.

  
“It’s early, you should go to sleep”, she tries to ignore his question and he gets it but doesn’t say anything.

  
“You need anything?”, he asks instead.  
She should say no, try and go back to sleep. If she were a stronger woman she’d do just that but what comes out of her mouth is: “please, stay”.  
They both blame it on tiredness when he just slips under the covers next to her and slips an arm around her waist.

* * *

Jon is the first to wake up, somehow they ended up facing each other, their legs tangled.  
Sansa looks so pretty with her hair sprawled out on her pillow, mouth hanging open a little, face serene and her hands under her cheek.  
He closes his eyes and lets himself pretend they are actually together, he gets to wake her up – trailing kisses from her nose _down, down, down._  
He shakes his head and gets up to get to his phone.  
Social media are apparently the key to a believable relationship between two celebrities and he selfishly wants the world to see how absolutely gorgeous his ( _fake fake fake fake_ ) girlfriend is so he takes a quick photo of her still sleeping, just her silhouette underneath the blankets – her red hair the only thing recognizable about her - and posts it on his Instagram stories.  
In that moment Sansa stirs, her eyes opening up a little. He’s still standing on her doorstep, phone in hand and when she sees him her face lights up.

  
“Hello”, she mumbles, shifting a little so she’s lying on her stomach – her arms underneath the pillow.  
He chuckles a little and sits on her bed.

  
“How are you feeling?”  
“Better. I actually –“, she sighs, “..i actually wanted to thank you. My nightmares sometimes are really bad”  
“Is that what happened? A nightmare?”

  
She tells him then about her dreams, how sometimes she can feel _his_ presence in the room, how sometimes she wakes up terrified thinking it was all a dream and hoping she’ll not find Joffrey’s sleeping form beside her.  
Jon listens to it all, doesn’t pity her when she talks about therapy and how much it helps her, doesn’t do anything but acknowledge her words and touch her sometimes to let her know he’s there.  
In the end she feels like she has bared her soul to him and it feels so good she may start crying again.

“How was it?”, he asks her after – when they are eating the breakfast he has cooked -, “Having to deal with the entire thing being on the media?”  
“Fucking awful”, he smiles a little at her swearing and she punches him lightly on the arm.

“You know, I not only had to fight for my right to be believed in court, I also had to prove something to his fans and the audience in general. I had to make the photos of the bruises public, I had to put out a statement. That’s why I went MIA again after I won the case. It was so exhausting, it felt good to just go back home and forget about it for a while”.

  
He looks concerned when he asks, “and you are okay with going to the premiere with me next month?”  
They had been invited by Shae to go to the premiere of her most recent film, they both had accepted gladly – Sansa couldn’t very well say no to the woman who made her believe in her work again and Jon would have followed Sansa to the ends of the world (not that he will ever tell her).

  
“Just..”, she looks up from the screen of her phone, “..stay with me the whole night, please?”

  
“You don’t even have to ask”.

* * *

  
The day of the premiere comes quickly and with it, the giddiness comes too.  
Sansa has always loved this part of her job, the getting dressed up and the walking the red carpet.  
She loves getting her pictures taken at the various events she attends, she loves looking like a million bucks and making people’s head turn.  
This is why she finds herself facetiming Jeyne, her best friend and stylist, just to make sure everything is okay with her outfit.

  
“Everything is fine and you need to calm down. Call that handsome boy of yours and tell him to get some champagne in you as soon as possible”, she tells her with a wink before ending the call.

  
She would love to call for Jon but the thing is: she already _is_ sipping on alcohol and she kinda wants to surprise him, he’s getting ready with Robb and Theon (third and final member of the Direwolves) in another room and the excitement she feels at seeing him with a tux is something she’ll never admit to anyone.  
Arya is getting ready next to her and her phone keeps lighting up.

  
“Who’s that?”, Sansa asks – curious.

  
“Gendry”, Arya sighs while putting on mascara. “Probably telling me not to kill every reporter who asks you about Joffrey but I’m not making any promises”, Sansa giggles a little at that but they are interrupted by Jeyne barging in, Sansa’s outfit on a rack behind her.

  
Sansa looks at herself in the mirror one last time, the game is on.

* * *

Jon is nervous.

He’s waiting for Sansa in the hall of the fanciest hotel he has ever stayed in and he feels like a teenage boy picking up his prom date. Granted, Robb and Theon are with him and there’s not gonna be any akward encounter with the parents but the rest? Basically the same.  
Theon is texting Jeyne, frustrated by the girls being late and Robb is sitting in one of the chairs – looking bored. They are both in on the fake dating plot and that makes Jon even more uneasy.  
He’s checking his phone – the media loves him and Sansa so much his Twitter mentions are floaded with tweets about “Jonsa” – when he hears Theon exhale loudly and exclaim “dear God, finally!”.

  
Gendry and Arya are the first to come down the stairs, followed by Jeyne and then – like a fucking vision sent on earth just to torture him – Sansa.

  
She is wearing the most amazing dress he has ever seen, it’s baby blue and flowy. She looks like a princess, a queen, a fairy but he can only concentrate on the high slit that shows way too much of her leg.  
Her hair is down and she has a dark red lipstick on and his thought are entirely too unpure to be standing so close to her brother right now so he walks closer to her, offering her his arm.  
She smiles at him, bright and beautiful and he thinks he might be in love with her.  
“You look absolutely perfect”, he manages to say and she blushes.

 _(He knows he is in love with her)_.

  
“The same goes for you, boyfriend”, she winks and laughs and she looks so extremely carefree he has to fight the urge to say fuck it and bring her back to the hotel room and never leave the bed.

* * *

The red carpet is loud, for lack of a better word.  
Sansa looks at ease while getting her picture taken, the camera flashes don’t bother her at all and she looks like a goddess – if all deities look like her, he thinks, he understands why people dedicate their lives to worshipping them.

  
He is surprised when the cameramen start asking for him to join her picture, he feels like he cannot move from the sidelines until Sansa extends her hand in his direction and he takes it without hesitating.  
He looks at her and only her, too uncomfortable actually looking at the cameras and he knows the media will go crazy as soon as the photos go public. He tells himself everything is fake. It’s a lie.

They get to the reporters next and Sansa’s smile starts to waver, she is clutching his arm – almost painfully and he fears she’s gonna have another panic attack.  
He puts an arm around her waist to steady her and before going up to the first journalist, he whispers that he’s with her every step of the way.  
The interviews go surprisingly well, most of the interviewers are women and they all seem respectful of what Sansa has been through keeping the questions easy and friendly. They ask about her gown, about her upcoming movie with Shae and about her relationship with Jon. They ask Jon about the album and the tour and everything goes smoothly.

Almost.

The last person in line is Ramsey Bolton, Jon hates his guts and everyone in Westeros knows about him. A creepy men with a creepy reputation, he smiles at Sansa in a way that makes Jon’s blood boil.  
“So, dear, it’s great seeing you on the red carpet again” – Sansa nods politely but she’s clearly on edge and he looks around to see if he can spot Arya somewhere.

  
He’s distracted and for a second he almost doesn’t catch what Ramsey is saying, “..it must have been hard. But you disappeared from the face of the earth and you know, people start talking. Some say you made the whole Joffrey thing up, what’s your response?”.  
He pinpoints the exact moment Sansa’s breath shortens and she starts to panic. He calls for Arya, loudly and fortunately the younger girl is there in a heartbeat – leading Sansa away, not before flipping Baelish off.

  
“You are a sorry excuse for a man. Talk to her again and I will make headlines for punching someone for the second time”, is all Jon says before catching up with the others.

* * *

Sansa is still feeling slightly lightheaded as they get to the after party. The movie was good but she had felt so drained after the encounter that she ended up putting her head on Jon’s shoulder and concentrating more on his cologne than anything else.  
He feels so safe and warm while he helps her through the crowded ballroom, she holds his hand tighter.

  
They join their group at the open bar and she sees Robb chatting with a beautiful brunette.  
“Margaery Tyrell?”, she asks just to make sure and the girl beams up at her.

  
“Sansa! Long time no see. How are you doing?”, they talk for a while, explaining to a very confused Robb how they know each other – King’s Landing, both victims of the manipulation in that city.

  
“You have to come to my party in two weeks! Renly and Loras are finally getting engaged and they’d love to see you again”, she extends the invitation to Robb with a wink and then adds. “Of course, you have to bring that handsome boy who was with you all night”, she giggles while pointing to Jon who is chatting with Arya, Gendry and a blonde girl who is not facing her. Sansa accepts for the both of them, kisses Margaery’s cheek and leaves her brother alone with the model.

When she gets to Jon she recognizes the girl he’s talking to immediately, Daenerys Targaryen is standing in front of her – effortlessly gorgeous - and she’s touching Jon’s arm, laughing about something he said.  
She feels heavy, a feeling that does not belong to her bubbles up in her stomach.

She’s jealous and she shouldn’t.

She’s jealous and she has no right to be because Jon is not hers.

  
She hears Daenerys saying “me and Jon go way back!” to Arya - who doesn’t seem very interested - and Gendry (who also looks like he’d love to be anywhere else) and then Jon’s eyes meet hers.  
For a second she forgets about everyone else, his beautiful smile enough to make her feel warm again but then:

what if she’s “absolutely perfect” but not enough for him? Her curse coming back to her.

Perfect but never enough.

  
Sansa does what she does best then, smiles sadly at him (a goodbye?) and disappears from the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for gabi, sorry for the angst - it will not last long.


	4. chapter four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was super hard to write and it’s very short.  
> i guess it felt more like a filler chapter more than anything but i still hope you’ll like it. next chapter is the end of this fic and i’ve loved writing it just as much as - i hope - you’ve loved reading it.

Sansa wakes up to her phone ringing in her ear.  
The sun is filtering through the curtains, she covers her eyes with her hand and blindly accepts the call.

  
“‘lo?”, she mumbles while yawning.  
“Sans? Oh, thank God! What were you thinking running off like that? We were scared shitless. Jon was freaking out!”, Sansa can hear Arya whispering something to another person in the room – Gendry? Robb? – before focusing on her once again.

  
Sansa feels tired and her head hurts, she’s sitting on her bed only in her underwear, the dress from the previous night thrown somewhere on the floor and her baby sister is yelling at her.  
She thinks about hanging up but then Arya says that Jon is coming over to check on her and that stops her.  
“No!”, she almost yells – she can’t see him. Not right now.

“No, please, I wasn’t feeling too well and I didn’t want to bother anyone. I’m sorry, tell everyone I’m fine”.  
She waits to see if Arya buys her excuse ( ~~she clearly doesn’t~~ ) and when she’s sure no one is gonna come and bother her today, she ends the call with a quick “text you later”.

  
Running a hand through her – very messy and tangled – hair, she thinks about last night.  
The jealousy, the disappointment, the heartbreak, the crying. So much crying.  
She remembers leaving the party in a haze, someone calling her name but from far away – unable to stop her.  
She gets up, by now fully awake, and picks up her gorgeous gown on her way to the bathroom.  
The look on his face while seeing her walk down the stairs comes to her mind. Was that also fake? An act for the doting boyfriend farce? She sighs, gripping her sink for support and washes her face – willing the intrusive thoughts away.

* * *

It’s later that day that she finds herself picking up her phone again.  
There’s a message from Margaery telling her she can’t wait to see her to Loras’ engagement party, one from Arya asking her how she’s doing and the third one is from Jon.  
She has not enough self control to cut him off completely from her day so she opens it and finds out that he has sent her a link to a youtube video followed by a _**we went viral, Sans! hope you are feeling better x**_ to which she doesn’t respond. She watches the video though, it has nearly 10 million views and it shows an angry Jon threatening Ramsey on the red carpet.  
Against her wishes, warmth floads her chest and a soft smile appears on her lips. Jon looks so offended on her behalf, so worried once he gets to her being led away by Arya that she can’t help but thank him again.  
She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath once she gets his response: _**what are boyfriends for anyway?**_

  
(fake fake fake)

* * *

They go on a date again. The public loves them and wants more.

Everyone is waiting to see their next move, what they’ll post next, if they’ll break up - so Sansa forces a smile on her face and knocks on his door after a week of not seeing him.  
He opens the door while putting his jacket on, his keys are in his mouth and he mumbles a greeting while frantically looking for something. He makes an endearing picture and Sansa finds herself unable to contain her laugh. He frowns a little at her but she just points to the coffee table in his living room where he left his Iphone. 

“Looking for that?”  
“Smartass”, he says before dropping a kiss to her temple and walking her out of the apartment.

* * *

The museum is not that crowded and they manage to get through the hoard of paparazzi without problems.  
Sometime during the walk from the car to the entrance he has taken her hand and he has yet to let it go, she hates herself a little right then for hoping it means something.

  
“So.. have you seen the pictures from the premiere?”, he asks – breaking the silence.  
She nods because yes, she has and she would love to ask him how did he manage to look so in love with her because as far as she knows she is the actor and he the rockstar but she decides to keep quiet instead.

  
“We do make a cute couple, uh?” he playfully shoves her a little and _gods!_ she wishes she could go back to when he was an asshole and not this perfect, lovable human being.

  
“Stop fishing for compliments, Jon” – he laughs when she says that and then shows her a fanpage someone made on Twitter about them, “a jonsa pics archive” the bio says and it would almost be funny but _imagine how disappointed they’ll be when we break up_ is the only thought running through her mind.

  
She leaves his side then, feigning interest for one of the pieces of art exposed and tries her best to slip the mask back on, to keep the happy smile on her face.  
When she regains her composure she turns around to find Jon a little bit behind, phone in front of his face clearly taking pictures of her. She twirls around and then gives him the finger causing him to laugh way too loud while an older couple looks at them disapprovingly.

  
“Very classy, Stark!”, he says before putting his phone away and linking his arm with hers.  
“Where to now, my lady?” – she leads him to the next room with butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

They end up getting dinner in a not very busy diner. It’s late and there are no paparazzi or fans around.  
She feels bold, they have spent the whole day together and he has never left her side, always touching, always laughing. She thinks he might have flirted with her once or twice and she wonders how strange would it be to ask her boyfriend to go on a date with her. A real one.  
He’s at the counter ordering for the both of them when his phone lits up. She doesn’t really mean to invade his privacy, she would never do that to him but the sound distracts her and the light catches her eye.  
She doesn’t see what the message says but she does see the name of the sender: **Daenerys Targaryen**.  
Her confidence crumbles and she starts remembering the touches between the couple at the party, the gorgeous woman’s laugh and them looking so perfect one next to the other.

  
She does her best not to cry when he comes back to the table and gives her the milkshake she asked for, dazzling smile and all.  
She does her best not to start sobbing right there and then when, once at her door he hugs her and tells her that he has missed her.  
She lets herself scream into her pillow when she realizes, alone in her room, that she is totally in love with the boy she once ignored, the man she once hated and the fake boyfriend she now has but is not truly hers.

* * *

  
She texts Arya because she’s sad and needs her sister so badly it hurts.  
Phone in hand, she goes on Instagram and that turns out to be the worst thing she could’ve done.

The first post she sees is Jon’s. She recognizes herself in the white dress she was wearing that day at the museum, when she thought he was taking pictures of her he was actually recording a video. She hears his laugh behind the camera when she twirls around for a bit, a little “a model!” he murmured under his breath that she didn’t quite catch before and then she sees herself smiling while flipping him off - his “very classy, Stark!” the last thing she hears before the video loops back again.

The second post is by Daenerys though and it’s a photo from the day of the party. It’s a candid taken by the photographer there, Jon is with her and they look so exceedingly happy Sansa’s heart breaks all over again.  
The caption reads: **i don’t remember what he was saying but i assume it was something charming** and there’s a fucking winky face and Sansa curses the day she agreed on the whole fake relationship plot.

  
She should wait for Arya to answer her, instead she writes a new text, this time to Jon himself:

_**after margaery’s party, we should break up.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can talk to me on twitter @keysansa or on tumblr @liliumpotter xoxo


	5. chapter five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so incredibly grateful for every single comment, boomark, kudos and hit.  
> this is my first multichapter fic and it has come to an end. i loved writing it and i hope you enjoy the last chapter too.
> 
> to gabi and kate,  
> i love you both.

Renly and Loras’ engagement party is in a hotel. A very big, luxurious hotel.  
They have taken care of the expenses for everyone, securing a room for every single one of their guests.  
A room she’s gonna have to share with her _almost ex_ fake boyfriend.

  
Sansa sighs for the tenth time in the span of five minutes and that earns her an exasperated eye roll from Arya.  
“You don’t have to go, you know that, right?” her sister is munching on some chips, while laying on her bed.

  
Sansa doesn’t answer her, busy making sure that the second wing of eyeliner looks just like the first. Makeup comes easily to her after years of practice but tonight her hand is trembling, her breath shaky and her eyes a little too watery.  
She shouldn’t be crying, she knows that. She has done enough of that when Arya burst into her apartment _that_ night. She had shed so many tears then, sobbing in her sister’s shirt and barely managing to explain the situation.  
That memory brings another pang to her chest.  
“I have to”, she finally responds after putting the eyeliner wand down.

  
Arya’s looking at her through the mirror of her vanity, Sansa can see pity in her gaze and that makes her want to break down even more.  
She goes to her wardrobe instead, trying to find something good enough to wear. She picks out some options, throwing them on the bed to judge later.  
Arya’s phone dings.  
“Have you talked to him?”, Sansa doesn’t need to ask who the “him” is.

  
“He hasn’t answered my text”

  
“You’re gonna have to see each other tonight”

  
“I don’t even think he’s gonna come”

  
“He is. He just texted me”

  
Sansa turns around sharply, the dress she is holding falling to the floor.  
“He is gonna meet us there”, Arya says – still looking at her phone and eating.  
_Fine_. That was _fine_.

One night of pretending and then they’d break up, he’d get to be happy with whoever he liked and she’d get to be free. Time would mend their relationship, hopefully. Some time apart would do her good.

  
She frowns at the choices sprawled on her duvet before picking up a simple black dress. It’s dangerously low cut and almost too short but she feels great in it and she wants to feel sexy. Not beautiful, pure or demure. Extremely hot.

  
Looking at her reflection, she thinks it does the trick.

* * *

  
The stifling heat of the dance floor hits her as soon as she enters the room.  
She is alone, Arya has gone to put their things down in the respective rooms followed by Gendry and Sansa is grateful to them both for avoiding her the possible awkward encounter with Jon.

  
_I need a drink first_ , she thinks while making her way through the mass of people blocking her path to the open bar.

  
Once she spots it, she pushes a little more decisively and plops down on one of the stools.  
The bartender comes up to her almost instantly and she recognizes him straight away.  
“Willas!” she greets the older man with a smile, “they put you to work?”

  
“The guy they hired got sick and I offered to replace him for a while, my dear. How’s life treating you? You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you, if that’s even possible!”  
Sansa can’t help the blush that graces her cheeks. Older he may be but not less beautiful or charming than his younger siblings.  
They make small talk for a while and then Sansa orders a lemon drop, hoping it will help her calm her nerves.  
She scans the room looking for some familiar faces. Looking for _him_.  
From where she is sitting she can see Margaery talking to the DJ, Loras and Renly dancing with each other, Robb talking with the a girl she thinks might be called Jenny, or Jeyne.

  
Then.. their eyes meet.

  
He is on the sofas opposite the bar, Arya and Gendry seem to be with him. He is still looking at her, gaze hard and inscrutable.

She remembers the guy in the meeting room, so different from _her_ Jon, all bruised knuckles and derisive snorts. She remembers their argument and his abrasive words and she thinks she remembers that look in his eyes. Angry, determined, annoyed.

  
It had bothered her so many months ago but now she feels a tingle down her spine and a tightening in her belly. She shifts on the stool, his eyes seem to trace the movement of her legs but she can’t be sure and her glass is empty and she really, really, really wants to go up to him and kiss him senseless.

  
Instead, she turns around and orders two shots from a smirking Willas – she downs them while he jokingly flirts with her and she feels watched. She knows that if she was to look back now she’d catch him staring. Does he hate her now?

When she actually finds the courage to seek him out again his attention has been redirected to Daenerys and that beautiful friend of hers, Missandei.

Sansa Stark doesn’t break. She has fought and grown and survived. She is as resilient as the weirwood tree in the backyard of her parent’s house. She cries and her heart cracks but she knows how to heal, she knows she can do it on her own.  
She believes her therapist would be proud of her for her positive thinking, that gives her enough strength to get on her feet and not run from the room. She goes towards the dance floor instead.  
She steals a quick glance at him before going to find Margaery, blue meets grey once again.

* * *

  
She has been dancing for the past hour and a half. Her feet are killing her and the shots she has been doing intermittently with Marge, Loras, Renly and some other strangers are making her head buzz. She feels light and carefree. For the first time in what feels like forever, she’s not Sansa Stark – famous actress, Joffrey’s ex, Jon’s fake girlfriend, she’s Sansa Stark – tipsy, wild and really fucking loving the DJ’s playlist.

  
She sways a little to the beat and looks around the dance floor, Margaery is nowhere to be seen – she thinks she remembers her friend telling her she was going to the bathroom but she also vaguely remembers someone going with her.

  
_At least one of us is getting laid_ , she thinks bitterly.

  
She has managed to steer as far away as possible from Jon, the possibility of him being with Daenerys too high for her to risk it. It’s only when she sits once again at the bar and orders a glass of water that she sees him again.  
He’s laughing with Gendry, moving his hands while talking – something she has noticed he does more when he has had a little to drink. They are far enough that she can’t hear what they are talking about but he does look significantly less angry than when she saw him first. They are still sitting but they got closer to the dance floor so they now have a good visual of the DJ booth.  
She sees Arya approaching the couple and asking them something. Gendry points in her general direction and all three heads turn towards her, her sister lifts her arms in the hair in exasperation (has she been looking for her?) but her mind only really registers Jon’s gaze once again on her.

Even from the opposite side of the room he makes her skin burn and gods, she is pathetic. A look from him and she’s completely bewitched, he could come to her right now and ask her to go to his – _their_ – room and she’d be on her feet in an instant. She understand his groupies now. She sighs, he won’t come though, she knows he won’t.

  
He’s still glaring at her when she’s taken from her thoughts by a hand placed on her forearm.  
Standing in front of her is Daenerys Targaryen, stunning as always, a smile plastered on her face.  
“Excuse me,” the blonde says with a smile “your dress is terribly pretty. Can I ask you where you got it?”

  
Sansa can’t quite concentrate. She wants to turn her head to him, to see his reaction, she knows he is looking at them, instead she answers, “Chanel”.  
If she were less confused and taken aback by the interaction she would have mentally chided herself for sounding so impolite.

  
“I can’t help but feel we are at odds with one another. It sounds silly but it seems to me, you don’t like me very much”, that certainly gets Sansa attention. Is she really that transparent? She takes a sip of her water.  
Daenerys continues. “Why is that?” a pause then, “Jon, perhaps?”.

  
Sansa’s mouth feels dry, what game is she playing? Unprompted, a memory comes to her mind. Petyr Baelish, her ex manager, that creep of a man, telling her that to understand a person’s motive, one should always assume the worst. What’s the worst reason they could possibly have for saying what they say and doing what they do?  
She knows it without thinking much about it. Damage control. Daenerys wants to be seen being amiable to Jon’s girlfriend but her eyes tell a different story: a warning, Sansa thinks, a threat.

  
“What about my _boyfriend_?”, she fakes a smile. Two can play the game.

  
“He’s a lovable guy. I have known him for years, we shared some.. _interesting_ experiences. I just wanted to assure you, you don’t have to be jealous”, the blonde’s grip on her arm is a little too forceful. Sansa takes the girl’s wrist and lifts her hand, setting herself free from her grasp and hopping down the stool.

  
She hobbles a bit, her high heels making her lose her balance and suddenly a strong arm is around her waist. She looks up to see Jon next to her, helping her steady herself.  
“Is everything alright?” he looks concerned and Sansa wonders why.

  
Daenerys giggles a little and touches his chest, “of course! We were talking about how much the both of us care about you!”.

  
It’s too much for Sansa, she steps away from Jon and she goes to Margaery that is waiting for her with a shot and some questions.

* * *

  
She doesn’t tell her friend everything, of course she doesn’t but she gives her a doctored version of the truth and that’s enough to set Margaery on a quest for vengeance.  
Margaery takes her hand and all but drags her to the console, the music is even louder here.

She feels the vibrations all through her body and she welcomes the sensation.

  
Her friend is screaming something at the DJ, Sansa feels somebody brush her arm and finds herself face to face with a man who looks vaguely familiar. Harry.. _something_.

He starts dancing in front of her, not fully invading her personal space but still clearly wanting to flirt with her.

She asks herself if it would be terribly harsh to tell him she’s not interested in him at all when Margaery whispers in her ear: “Jon is staring right at you. Uh-uh, don’t look, Sansa! Blondie is with him,” there’s mischief in her eyes when she hisses the next words, “ _make him jealous_ ”.

  
Then, _Partition_ by Beyoncé starts.

  
She hears some girls scream excitedly and she feels strangely giddy too all of a sudden.  
The guy she wanted to turn away earlier is now convenient to her and she puts a hand on his shoulder while dancing. He smirks at her but she doesn’t care, her eyes are fixed on her ex boyfriend. _Fake_ boyfriend. Ex fake boyfriend. He looks pissed off and she feels the anger too, how dare he.

  
Beyoncé is singing about being _on his mouth like liquor_ and having sex in the backseat of a limo and Sansa is grinding on a stranger and Daenerys has her arm basically around Jon’s shoulders but he is not paying her attention.

It’s too much, Sansa feels like she’s going to explode – she’s hot and in love and heartbroken and horny and when the guy she’s dancing with gets a little too handsy she breaks.

  
The french part of the song is still blaring over the speakers when she gets out of the room and runs up the long flight of stairs.  
Her hair is a mess, she can feel it sticking to her neck and her feet are killing her. She knows her makeup must be smudged.

  
When she gets to the room she fumbles with the key. The door clicks open and she enters the suite for the first time, it’s beautiful and romantic but she focuses on something else: Jon’s bag is on the pretty couch, his jacket thrown on the covers of the bed and his cigarettes are on the desk.  
She has never been much of a smoker but the night has been too unconventional so far for her to care. She steals one from his pack and takes his lighter before opening the big glass doors and stepping on the balcony.

  
The night air is cool on her bare skin, the view from where she stands is breathtaking- the hotel garden is lit up by fairy lights and if she were still a child she would have tears in her eyes, enchanted by the beauty of the place.

Instead, she takes a drag.

She coughs a little, not used to the smoke in her lungs but then she repeats the action.

  
“Enjoyed the night?” his gruff voice startles her and she spins around.

  
He is leaning against the doorframe and he looks painfully beautiful. His white shirt is unbuttoned a little, the sleeves rolled up and he has his glasses on. The sight of him is too much to handle so she keeps her gaze on the horizon.

  
“As much as you did,” it feels like an accusation. It feels like they might be crossing some invisible line and she doesn’t know what is going to happen.

  
He huffs.

  
“Who was that guy?”

  
Her eyes snap to his once again. He looks mad, his jaw is clenched but his voice sounds sad, haunted.

  
“Just a guy,” she shrugs.

The sound that comes out of Jon is strangled and pained, half a chuckle and half a growl.

  
“A guy you were grinding on in front of your boyfriend,” Sansa sees _red_.

  
“Fake! Fake boyfriend, Jon! What the fuck is this about?” she is raising her voice and it feels like a déjá vu. “Don’t act like your fucking better than me! Don’t act like you weren’t flirting with Daenerys the whole damn night!”, he stumbles back at that, as if she has hit him.

  
She continues, the dam has broken and now she wants him to feel what she feels. She wants him to know.  
“It’s okay, I’ll leave you to it. We have broken up, in a few weeks it will be official. You can start dating whoever you want, just don’t let her drag my name through the mud or I _will_ make both of you pay. I know my ways around lawyers.” 

She sees so many emotions flash across his face, then he takes a step towards her.

She steps back.

  
It’s a dance, what they are doing.

He moves forward and she backwards. Grey fixed on blue the whole time.

She hits the balcony railing and it’s cold against her.

He’s still inching closer but when she orders him to stop, he does.

Jon’s still too close, close enough for her to smell his cologne and feel the warmth radiating off of him.

  
“ _Sansa_..” he breaths her name like one would a prayer.

  
“Don’t. Please don’t look at me like that,” her voice is hoarse and she’s trying so hard to swallow the lump in her throat.

  
He grins, tilts his head to the side.

“Like what?” he is whispering in her hear now, his breath on her neck.

  
She gasps, unable to catch her breath.

  
“Like I want to do this?” he presses a light kiss on the skin of her shoulder, then goes up. Her collarbone.

Her pulse point.

Behind her ear.

  
At the first touch of his mouth on her she all but melts into him, her knees weak.

  
“ _Jon_ ,” he nestles his face on the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

  
When he speaks he doesn’t move from that position, his lips still on her skin.

  
“I don’t want her. I.. I didn’t even understand she was flirting with me. I could only look at you all night. Whatever she told you about us, it’s a lie. I’ve never touched her. Please, Sansa, please believe me. It’s you, only you, always you,” he presses another kiss to her jawline but when she doesn’t respond he steps away.

He looks like he is preparing himself for rejection. Sansa can’t have that.

  
In a heartbeat, her lips are on his.

They kiss desperately, like two people starving.

They kiss passionately, like two lovers that have been kept at a distance for far too long.

They kiss tenderly, like two people in love.

  
Sansa whines when he breaks the contact and he chuckles.

  
“Gods, you are so fucking beautiful,” and she believes him. Oh, how she believes him.

She finally, finally believes herself perfect and good enough and she has done it by herself, of course she has, but she can’t help but be grateful to him for being at her side. For believing in her.

How could she not believe him now, when he is looking like her like she is the Maiden come to life?

  
“I love you, Jon Snow,” he laughs and it’s so precious she thinks her heart might burst from happiness.

  
“I know,” he says, “I love you too”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the discussion between dany and sansa is clearly inspired by the library scene in s8.
> 
> follow me or hit me up on tumblr @liliumpotter or on twitter @keysansa xx
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> title from “partition” by beyoncé.


End file.
